The morning of June 23rd, 2020 began as a normal workday for Ranger Kevin Jacobs at Pisga National Forest in North Carolina.

A 47-year-old veteran of the Forest Service with 25 years of experience, Kevin was patrolling an old, rarely used trail in the western part of the forest, an area of more than 20,000 hectares of dense Appalachian woods where it is easy to get lost in a matter of minutes.

It was around in the morning when he noticed something strange.

A massive oak tree, which he estimated to be at least 200 years old with a trunk diameter of about 3 meters, looked unusual.

Part of the bark had fallen inward, exposing what should have been the natural hollow of an old tree.

But something about this picture looked wrong.

Kevin moved closer, and then he saw it.

The edges of the collapse were too smooth, too geometric for a natural formation.

He looked inside the cavity and froze.

Under a layer of moss, twigs, and leaves, carefully camouflaged, was a metal hatch, industrial, with a handle clearly installed by a human.

Kevin immediately called for backup on his radio.

40 minutes later, Transennsylvania County Sheriff’s deputies and FBI agents from the local office arrived on the scene.

They opened the hatch and found a metal ladder leading down into the darkness.

What they found about 4 m underground shocked even the experienced investigators.

A concrete bunker measuring about 4×6 m.

No windows with the remains of a ventilation system.

Two metal beds chained to the walls.

A broken generator in the corner, empty plastic bottles, food scraps, and the smell.

The unbearable smell of human excrement, sweat, mold, and despair.

But the most shocking thing was yet to come.

In the far corner of the bunker, behind a makeshift partition of dirty blankets, they found them.

Two women alive, barely.

They weighed no more than 30 kg each.

Their skin was covered with soores and abrasions.

Their hair was tangled and dirty.

Their teeth were loose from vitamin deficiency.

Their eyes were empty, almost lifeless.

They couldn’t speak.

They only made horse sounds as if they had forgotten how to use their voices.

The medics who arrived by helicopter immediately began to provide assistance.

One of the women was in critical condition, dehydrated, emaciated with signs of multiple fractures that had healed incorrectly.

The second was in slightly better condition, but still on the verge of life and death.

At Mission Hospital in Asheville, after several hours of intensive care, doctors were able to stabilize their condition.

Then, 5 days after the rescue, one of the women, the one who was in relatively better condition, was able to whisper her name.

Haley Watson, a name that North Carolina authorities had not heard in 5 years.

the name of a girl who disappeared in July 2015 along with her friend Emma Hirs while hiking in the same Piska National Forest.

The case, which was closed a year later as hopeless, suddenly turned into one of the most shocking crimes in the state’s history.

The two young women spent 5 years in an underground prison, victims of a kidnapper whom the police have not yet identified.

This is the story of how a normal hike turned into a nightmare of 5 years of torture, abuse, and survival in the dark.

Of an investigation that uncovered the extent of the crimes committed by a man who lived among ordinary people, had a family, a job, and a reputation as a decent citizen.

This is the story of Haley Watson and Emma Hirs.

And this is a story about how evil can lurk in the most unexpected places.

The morning of July 10th, 2015 was warm and sunny.

Haley Watson, a 19-year-old sophomore at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, woke up at a.m.

in the apartment she shared with Emma Hirs, her best friend and roommate.

Emma, a 20-year-old ecology major, was already awake, packing her backpack for their two-day hike in Pisca National Forest, which they had been planning for 2 months.

Summer vacation, great weather, and a desire to escape the hustle and bustle of the city.

Perfect conditions for an adventure.

“Are you ready for the best weekend of your life?” Emma asked, smiling.

She had always been the more energetic of the two friends, the organizer, the initiator of adventures.

Haley nodded, stretching.

Ready? Just coffee first.

Lots of coffee.

They met in their freshman year in the dorms and became instant friends.

Both were from small towns in North Carolina.

Haley from Durham, Emma from Greensboro.

Both loved nature, hiking, photography.

both dreamed of traveling after college.

At in the morning, they loaded their backpacks into Emma’s old Honda Civic, a blue 1999 hatchback she had bought with her savings.

The backpacks contained standard camping gear, a tent, sleeping bags, food for 3 days, water, a first aid kit, flashlights, a map of the area, and a compass.

Haley also took her Canon camera.

She was into landscape photography and planned to take lots of pictures.

Before leaving, Haley sent a message to her mother, Carol Watson.

We’re going to Pisca.

I’ll be in touch.

Love you, Mom.

Emma wrote a similar message to her parents.

Both girls were responsible and always told their parents about their plans.

No one could have guessed that these messages would be their last.

The drive from Chapel Hill to the entrance of Pisgah National Forest took about 3 and 1/2 hours.

They drove with the windows open, listening to music, singing, and laughing.

Emma drove the car while Haley chose the playlist on her phone.

It was a typical trip for two young women enjoying summer and friendship.

Around a.m., they stopped at a gas station in Breard about 20 km from the forest.

The gas station security camera footage is the last reliable footage of the girls alive and unharmed.

In the video, Emma is filling up the car while Haley goes into the store to buy water and snacks.

They talk and smile.

Emma takes a selfie with the mountains in the background.

Haley waves to some one off camera.

At a.m., they leave the gas station and head for the forest.

At p.m., they check in at the entrance to Pisgga National Forest.

Ranger Thomas Henderson, who was on duty that day, later recalled them in an interview with the police.

Two pretty young girls, clearly in high spirits.

They asked for directions to Looking Glass Falls, wanted to know how safe the trail was, and if there were any bears in the area.

I gave them the standard information, warned them to keep their food in special containers, stay on the marked trails, and always carry a map and compass with them.

They thanked me and left.

Just ordinary tourists.

I wouldn’t even remember them if it weren’t for what happened next.

At p.m., Emma sent a message to a group chat with her parents and younger sister.

We’re here.

The forest is incredible.

We’re going to the waterfall soon.

Attached to the message was a photo of the two girls smiling in front of a trail sign wearing hiking clothes and carrying backpacks.

At p.m., Haley posted a photo on Instagram, a view of Looking Glass Falls, one of the most beautiful waterfalls in the region with water cascading 18 m into a crystalclear lake.

The caption read, “Nature heals the soul.” That was the last post on social media.

At p.m., Emma sent her mother a final text message.

Found a great place to pitch the tent.

Sell service is weak, but everything is fine.

I’ll write tomorrow.

Love you.

After that, silence.

Carol Watson wasn’t worried on Friday evening when Haley didn’t get in touch.

She knew that cell phone reception was often poor in the woods.

She wasn’t worried on Saturday morning either.

But when Haley still hadn’t replied to her messages by the evening of Saturday, July 11th, Carol began to worry.

She called Emma’s parents, Robert and Diane Hirs.

They also hadn’t heard from their daughter since Friday evening.

On Sunday, July 12th, when the girls were supposed to return home, but did not show up or get in touch, their parents sounded the alarm.

At a.m., Robert Hirsch called the Transennsylvania County Sheriff’s Office and reported two young women missing.

The officer on duty, Sergeant Mark Davis, took the report and immediately sprang into action.

According to standard protocol, the first 48 hours after a disappearance are critical.

Every minute counts.

By noon on Sunday, a search party of 12 Rangers and six sheriff’s deputies had been mobilized.

They began at the girl’s last known location, the Looking Glass Falls area and surrounding trails.

By Sunday evening, they found Emma’s Honda Civic.

The car was parked in a small dirt lot about 2 km from the falls off the main trail.

The doors were locked.

The keys were inside in the ignition.

The girls backpacks were missing.

This was a good sign.

It meant that the girls had probably gone hiking, taking their equipment with them.

The bad sign was that they had not returned to the car.

The search continued with the help of tracking dogs.

The dogs picked up the trail from the car and led the team deep into the forest along an old, poorly marked trail that was not marked on tourist maps.

The trail led northwest into the densest and wildest part of the forest where tourists rarely ventured.

After about a mile, the trail led to a small clearing.

There, the search team made a discovery that turned the disappearance into a possible crime.

There was a tent in the clearing, more precisely, the remains of a tent.

It was partially burned, the fabric charred, the metal frame deformed by the heat.

There were things scattered around the tent.

Torn clothing, melted plastic bottles, food remains mixed with ashes.

But the most disturbing thing was the stains.

Dark brown stains on the grass around the tent and on the ground inside it.

A preliminary test showed that it was blood.

Human blood.

Quite a lot of blood.

Detective Sarah Collins of the Transennsylvania County Sheriff’s Criminal Investigations Division, who arrived on the scene on Monday morning, July 13th, immediately classified the case as a suspected abduction with possible violence.

The picture was clear.

She later recalled in an interview, “The girls had set up camp.

Something happened, an attack, a struggle.

Someone set fire to the tent, possibly to destroy evidence, and the girls were taken.

Dead or alive, we didn’t know, but the amount of blood indicated serious injuries.

The crime scene was carefully processed.

Forensic investigators collected samples of blood, charred fabric, shoe prints, cigarette butts found nearby, and hair found on a branch of a bush.

Each piece of evidence was cataloged and sent for analysis.

The DNA analysis of the blood took three days.

The results confirmed the worst fears.

The blood belonged to both girls, Haley Watson and Emma Hirs.

The blood type matched and a full genetic analysis conducted later showed a 100% match with samples provided by the parents.

The search was expanded.

Volunteers joined the operation.

More than 200 people from local communities, university students, and members of search and rescue organizations.

Helicopters patrolled the forest from the air.

Drones with thermal imaging cameras scanned the area.

Dogs combed every square meter within a 10 km radius of the crime scene.

But nothing was found.

No bodies, no additional clues, no witnesses.

The girls seemed to have vanished into thin air.

The story of the disappearance of Haley Watson and Emma Hirs quickly attracted the attention of the national media.

Two young, beautiful students who disappeared during an innocent hike.

Perfect material for news programs and newspaper headlines.

The FBI officially joined the investigation on July 20th, 2015, 10 days after the disappearance.

Special Agent David Marsh led the federal part of the investigation, coordinating efforts with local authorities.

Investigators worked on several theories.

Theory one, attack by a wild animal.

Piska, national forest is home to black bears, which sometimes attack humans.

But zoological experts rejected this theory.

Bears do not set tents on fire.

In addition, the nature of the damage to the tent and the distribution of belongings did not correspond to an animal attack.

Theory two, accident.

Perhaps the girls were injured in a fall, tried to build a fire to signal for help.

The fire got out of control and burned the tent.

They could have gone to seek help and gotten lost.

But this version did not explain why they were never found despite a large-scale search.

Version three, crime.

Someone attacked the girls, injured them, and kidnapped them.

Perhaps for sexual reasons, perhaps for other reasons.

This was the main working version.

Detective Collins and her team began checking all registered sex offenders in the region.

There were 47 of them within a 100 km radius.

Each was interviewed and their alibi checked.

Most had ironclad alibis, work, witnesses, CCTV footage.

Several people were unable to convincingly explain their whereabouts on the day of the disappearance, but further checks revealed no connection to the case.

Investigators also checked everyone who had been in the forest during those days.

Rangers provided lists of registered visitors.

Dozens of tourists, fishermen, and photographers who were in Pisca from July 9th to 13, 2015 were interviewed.

No one saw anything suspicious.

No one heard cries for help.

No one noticed a stranger acting strangely.

One witness, a tourist named Michael Grant, reported seeing a white Ford pickup truck parked on an old forest road around noon on July 10th, about a kilometer from where the burned tent was later found.

He did not remember the license plate number, but described the car as relatively new, clean with tinted windows.

It was a lead.

The police checked the registration details of all white Ford pickups in the region.

There were more than 300 of them.

The owners were questioned.

The vehicles were inspected.

Nothing suspicious was found.

Weeks passed, then months.

The search gradually wound down.

The volunteers dispersed.

The media moved on to other stories.

The girl’s parents continued to fight, hiring private investigators, organizing their own search expeditions, offering a $50,000 reward for any information leading to the discovery of their daughters.

But nothing helped.

By the end of 2015, the case had effectively reached a dead end.

There were no bodies.

There were no suspects.

There was no new evidence.

All that remained was a burned tent, blood, and theories.

In July 2016, exactly one year after their disappearance, the case was officially classified as cold, an unsolved case that is not actively being investigated, but remains open in case new information comes to light.

Detective Sarah Collins did not give up.

Even when the case was frozen, she continued to periodically review the materials and check new leads that sometimes came in, usually from people who claimed to have seen the girls in different states, but each time it turned out to be a mistake or a hoax.

I knew they were out there somewhere, Sarah said later.

Dead or alive, but I felt the answer was in that forest.

We had missed something, some detail.

I looked at the crime scene photos hundreds of times trying to find what we had missed, but there was nothing.

The forest kept its secret.

What happened to Haley Watson and Emma Hirs on the evening of July 10th, 2015 remained a mystery until Haley was able to tell investigators about it a few weeks after her rescue.

Her testimony given in a series of interviews with Detective Collins and FBI psychologist Dr.

Elizabeth Chen revealed an unimaginable nightmare.

After Emma sent her last message to her mother at p.m., the girls set up camp in a small clearing about 2 km from the waterfall.

It was a beautiful spot, surrounded by tall pine and oak trees with a stream nearby and a view of the mountains.

They set up their tent, built a small fire, and cooked dinner, macaroni with canned sauce.

They sat by the fire talking about their plans for the next year, their dreams, boys, and the future.

Haley took pictures of the sunset, and Emma kept a journal.

She always wrote down her impressions of their hikes.

It was a typical evening for two friends enjoying nature and each other’s comp any.

Around p.m., they heard a noise, the crackling of branches, footsteps.

A man emerged from behind the trees.

“He looked normal,” Haley recalled.

“Middle-aged, maybe 45 or so, wearing hiking clothes with a backpack.

He was smiling.

He looked friendly.

We weren’t scared.

The woods are full of tourists.

We thought he was just another traveler.” The man said hello, asked how they were doing, and asked if he could join them around the campfire for a few minutes.

He said he was lost and wanted to check their map to see where he was.

The girls agreed.

In hiking culture, it’s normal to help other tourists.

He sat down by the fire and took out his map.

They began to discuss roots.

He was talkative, telling them about his hikes and asking them questions about theirs.

He seemed pleasant and safe.

He said his name was Tom.

And then everything changed in a second,” Haley said, her voice still trembling even 5 years later.

He suddenly stood up very quickly and I saw that he had a gun in his hand.

He pointed it at us and said, “If you scream, I’ll shoot.

If you run, I’ll shoot.

Do as I say, and you’ll live.” His voice changed.

It became cold, commanding.

He was a completely different person.

Emma tried to say something and started to get up.

He hit her on the head with the butt of the gun.

She fell, blood pouring from the wound on her forehead.

Haley screamed.

He pointed the gun at her.

Shut up right now.

He ordered them to tie each other’s hands together and gave them plastic ties from his backpack.

Emma was semi-conscious, blood flooding her face.

Haley was crying, her hands shaking, but she did as he said.

Then he tied their legs, gagged them with cloth, and wrapped them with duct tape.

He took their phones, Haley’s camera, and all their valuables.

He scattered the rest of the contents of their backpacks on the ground.

He set the tent on fire.

He dowsed it with liquid from a bottle he took out of his backpack and threw a match.

The flames instantly engulfed the fabric.

He wanted to make it look like an attack, an accident, anything but a kidnapping, Detective Collins explained later.

He set the tent on fire, left blood, Emma’s blood from the blow to her head.

He created a chaotic scene so that if anyone found the place, they would think it was an accident or an animal attack.

Clever.

Damn clever.

The man hoisted Emma onto his shoulder, she was lighter, about 50 kg.

He ordered Haley to walk ahead, his gun pointed at her back.

They walked through the forest for 40 minutes, maybe more.

Haley couldn’t say for sure.

She was in shock, her legs moving automatically, her mind refusing to accept reality.

They came out onto an old dirt road.

There was a white Ford pickup truck there, the same one that witnessed Michael Grant had seen.

The man threw Emma into the back seat and sat Haley next to her.

He tied them even tighter and added chains.

He covered them with a tarp.

I thought they were taking us somewhere to kill and bury us, Haley said.

I prayed.

I cried under the gag.

I tried to remember the details in case I managed to escape.

How long we were driving, which way we were turning, but I couldn’t see anything under the tarp, only darkness and the sound of the engine.

The trip lasted about half an hour, according to Haley.

Then the car stopped.

The man pulled them out of the pickup truck.

Haley saw that they were in the woods in some very remote wild part.

There were only trees around, no buildings, roads, or people.

He led them to a massive tree, a huge oak with a hollow trunk.

He pushed aside the branches that hid the entrance to the cavity.

Inside was a metal hatch.

He opened it, turned on a flashlight, and illuminated a metal staircase leading down.

“Go down,” he ordered.

Slowly.

If you fall, it’s your problem.

They climbed down.

Haley counted the steps.

24.

At the bottom was a concrete corridor, cold and damp.

The smell of earth, mold, one door.

He opened it and they found themselves in a bunker, their new home for the next 5 years.

The bunker was terrifying in its simplicity.

A rectangular room about 4×6 m.

Concrete walls covered with condensation.

Earthn floor in some places.

Concrete in others.

No windows.

One metal door locked from the outside with several locks.

Two metal beds bolted to the wall.

A plastic bucket in the corner for a toilet.

Several plastic bottles of water.

Old blankets, smelly and dirty.

In the corner stood a generator, diesel, loud.

Next to it were several cans of fuel.

One light bulb under the ceiling gave off a dim yellow light.

In another corner was a ventilation system, a pipe going up with a small fan powered by the generator.

“When I first saw this place, I couldn’t believe it.” Haley said it looked like something out of a horror movie.

“Someone built this on purpose.

They concreted the walls, installed ventilation, prepared a place to kidnap people.

That meant it was all planned.” He was preparing for this, maybe for months, maybe for years.

The man removed their gags.

Emma had come to by this point, but the wound on her head was still bleeding, and she was nauseous, possibly from a concussion.

Haley helped her sit down on one of the beds.

The man stood at the door watching them.

Then he spoke.

His voice was calm and business-like.

Here’s how it’s going to work.

You’re here now.

This is your new home.

If you obey, if you do what I say, you will be fed, given water, and you will stay alive.

If you resist, scream, try to escape, it will hurt.

It will hurt a lot.

No one will hear you.

We are deep underground in the middle of the forest.

No one knows where you are.

No one is looking for you here.

The only way to survive is to obey.

Understood? Emma asked, her voice trembling.

What do you want from us? He smiled.

You’ll find out in time.

For now, get used to it.

This is your home now.

He left.

Locks clicked.

The generator stalled.

The lights went out.

Absolute darkness and silence enveloped them.

Haley and Emma sat in the dark, holding hands and crying.

Their first night in the bunker, the first of approximately thousand outing 126 nights they would spend in this hell.

The details of what happened in the bunker over the next 5 years are so horrific that I will recount them sparingly, relying on Haley’s testimony, medical reports, and psychological evaluations.

Some things are too difficult to describe in detail.

The man the girls knew only as Tom, later revealed not to be his real name, came to the bunker irregularly.

Sometimes every day, sometimes once every 3 or 4 days.

Each visit lasted from half an hour to several hours.

He brought food, usually canned goods, bread, and water in plastic bottles.

There was enough food to keep them from starving, but not enough to keep them healthy.

The girls quickly began to lose weight.

Vitamin deficiency led to problems with their teeth, skin, and hair.

He brought a bucket of clean water for washing once a week if they behaved well.

Sometimes he brought clean clothes, simple t-shirts and pants, men’s too big for them.

Sometimes he brought medicine when they were sick.

Colds, infections, and fevers were common in the cold, damp environment of the bunker.

But the main reason for his visits was different.

The sexual abuse began in the second week.

First Emma, then Haley, then both together.

He raped them systematically, methodically, often using violence if they resisted.

The chains that bound them to their beds prevented them from escaping or defending themselves effectively.

He treated it as his right, Haley said, as if we were his property, things he could use whenever he wanted.

Sometimes he was almost normal, talking to us, asking how we were feeling, bringing us something extra like chocolate or a magazine.

He played some kind of sick game where he was the good host and we had to be grateful.

And sometimes he was cruel.

He beat us for the slightest disobedience, for trying to talk when he didn’t allow it, for a look he didn’t like.

Emma tried to resist.

In the first few months, she was stronger in spirit, more combative.

She yelled at him, spat at him, tried to bite or hit him when he approached.

Each time he punished her, beating her, depriving her of food for several days, leaving her in complete darkness for long hours.

After a particularly brutal beating in October 2015, when he broke two of Emma’s ribs for scratching his face, she stopped actively resisting.

She realized it was useless.

That resistance only brought more pain.

“We developed a survival strategy,” Haley explained.

Obey to minimize violence, conserve energy, support each other emotionally.

Emma said, “We have to stay alive.

Someday we’ll be rescued or we’ll find a way to escape.

But to do that, we have to survive.

” That became our mantra.

Survive at any cost.

An escape attempt was made once in March 2016.

The man forgot to lock one of the locks on the door.

Perhaps he was drunk or simply distracted.

Haley noticed this a few hours after he left.

They were able to open the door, go out into the hallway, and climb the stairs.

But the hatch at the top was locked from the outside.

A heavy metal hatch with a lock that could not be opened from the inside.

They pushed it, hit it, shouted.

It was useless.

When the man returned and found them by the stairs, he flew into a rage.

He beat them both.

He broke two of Haley’s fingers on her left hand.

He deprived them of food for 5 days.

After that, they didn’t try anymore.

Time passed strangely in the bunker.

Without natural light, without a clock, without a calendar, the days merged into a monotonous succession of darkness, cold, fear, and pain.

Haley tried to keep track of the days by making scratches on the wall with a small stone she had found.

But sometimes she forgot.

Sometimes he made them erase the marks.

I lost track of time, she said.

I didn’t know what month it was, what year it was.

The only thing I knew was that a lot of time was passing.

A lot of time.

I felt my body changing, weakening.

My teeth started to loosen.

My hair fell out.

We were turning into skeletons, into ghosts.

The psychological torture was no less cruel than the physical.

The man sometimes told them that their parents had stopped looking for them, that everyone had forgotten about them, that they had been declared dead.

He brought old newspapers with headlines like missing students probably dead.

Case closed.

He showed them photos of their families and told them that their parents had already come to terms with their loss.

It was worse than physical pain.

Haley cried in an interview.

To think that you’ve been forgotten, that no one is looking for you, that you’ve just disappeared from the world.

And the world goes on without you.

Sometimes I wanted to die.

Just close my eyes and not wake up.

The only thing that kept me going was Emma.

We held on to each other.

We promised that if one of us broke down, the other would be strong.

But Emma broke down slowly, gradually, year after year.

Haley saw the light in her friend’s eyes dim.

She became increasingly apathetic and silent.

By 2018, Emma had almost stopped talking.

She would sit for hours, staring at the wall, rocking back and forth.

Signs of severe trauma, post-traumatic stress disorder, dissociation.

In January 2019, Emma attempted suicide.

She tried to hang herself with a blanket tied to a ventilation pipe.

Haley saved her, but only because she was nearby.

After that, the man removed everything that could be used for suicide.

He shortened the chains that bound them.

“The last year was the hardest.” Haley said, “Emma hardly ate anything.

She lost consciousness several times a day.

I thought she was going to die.

I prayed that it wouldn’t happen, but I also prayed that if she did die, it would be quick and painless because seeing her suffer was unbearable.

And then in June 2020, the visit stopped.

The man didn’t come for a week, then two, then three.

The food ran out, the water ran out, the generator stalled, the fuel ran out, the bunker was plunged into absolute darkness and silence.

Haley and Emma lay on their beds, too weak to move.

They drank the condensation running down the walls.

They ate the mold growing in the corners, a desperate attempt to get some calories.

I thought it was the end.

Haley said that he had decided to get rid of us by just leaving us to die, that he wasn’t coming back.

I tried to prepare for death.

I said goodbye to Emma.

I told her I loved her, that she was the best friend I could have wished for, that we would soon see our parents in the afterlife.

Emma hardly reacted.

She was semic-conscious most of the time.

It would later emerge that the man had been arrested at the end of May 2020 in connection with another case, an assault on a woman in Hendersonville, 40 km from the bunker.

He spent 3 weeks in jail before his trial, then was released on bail.

That was why the visits had stopped.

But Haley and Emma didn’t know that.

They were just slowly dying in the dark.

On June 23rd, 2020, 32 days after the man’s last visit, Haley heard a sound.

Faint, distant, but definitely the sound of footsteps upstairs.

Voices? Lots of voices.

At first, I thought I was hallucinating, she recalled.

I had already been hallucinating from dehydration and hunger.

I saw my mother.

I saw the sun.

I heard music.

But these voices were different.

Real.

I tried to scream, but only a weeze came out of my throat.

I hit the metal bed with the chain again and again with all my remaining strength.

Ranger Kevin Jacobs and the rescue team heard the sound, a faint metallic knock coming from underground.

They opened the hatch, climbed down the ladder, and opened the bunker door.

What they saw shocked even the experienced rescuers.

Medic James Rivera, who was part of the team, later described it this way.

I’ve been involved in rescue operations for 20 years.

I’ve seen victims of disasters, fires, car accidents, but this this was the worst.

Two women, more like skeletons than people.

Their skin was gray, stretched tight over their bones.

Their eyes were sunken and lifeless.

The smell was unbearable.

They couldn’t speak, only make faint wheezing sounds.

One of them was unconscious.

The other looked at us, and there was such horror, such despair in her eyes.

I will never forget it.

Haley and Emma were immediately evacuated by helicopter to Mission Hospital in Asheville.

Doctors worked around the clock to stabilize them.

The diagnosis were horrific.

Haley Watson, severe malnutrition, dehydration, scurvy, anemia, osteoporosis, multiple healed fractures, left hand fingers, three ribs, right collarbone, chronic infections, kidney damage, partial vision loss due to vitamin A deficiency, tooth loss, post-traumatic stress disorder.

Weight upon admission, 29 kg at a height of 165 cm.

Emma Hirs.

Critical exhaustion, dehydration, scurvy, severe anemia, osteoporosis, multiple healed fractures, two ribs, left arm, nose, chronic infections, renal failure, partial blindness, tooth loss, severe post-traumatic stress disorder with dissociative disorder, weight upon admission, 27 kg at a height of 162 cm.

Both women also showed signs of prolonged sexual abuse, scarring, damage, chronic infections.

“It was a miracle that they survived,” said Dr.

Robert Simmons, the chief physician who treated the girls.

“Another week, maybe even a few days, and it would have been too late.

Their bodies were on the verge of complete failure.” But they held on.

The will to live that they demonstrated, it was incredible.

While doctors fought for Haley and Emma’s lives, the police began hunting for the man who had held them captive for 5 years.

The bunker was thoroughly examined by forensic experts.

DNA samples, fingerprints, and hair were collected.

Personal belongings left behind by the man were found, including clothing, tools, and food containers.

DNA from several samples matched DNA found at the crime scene in 2015 on a burned tent and the girl’s belongings.

This confirmed that the kidnapper was the same man who had attacked them 5 years earlier.

The fingerprints were sent to the federal database.

48 hours later, the results came back.

A match.

Name: David Thomas Williams.

Date of birth, March 15th, 1970.

50 years old.

Address: Breard, North Carolina.

The same town where the girls had stopped at a gas station before entering the forest.

Williams had a criminal record.

In 1992, when he was 22, he was convicted of assaulting a woman in Tennessee.

He served 5 years and was released on parole in 1997.

Since then, he had led a relatively clean life, a few minor offenses, speeding tickets, one arrest for drunk driving in 2008.

He worked as a builder for a local company.

He was married and had two children.

He lived in an ordinary house in a quiet suburb.

Neighbors described him as quiet, reserved, but polite.

No one suspected anything.

On June 25th, 2020, 2 days after the girls were rescued, an FBI and sheriff SWAT team surrounded David Williams house.

An arrest warrant was issued on charges of kidnapping, unlawful imprisonment, sexual assault, and attempted murder.

The operation went quickly.

At in the morning, the team stormed the house.

Williams was arrested in his bedroom next to his wife, who was screaming hysterically.

The children, a 14-year-old girl and an 11-year-old boy, were immediately taken away by social services.

Williams did not resist.

He did not even look surprised.

“I knew you were coming,” he told the officers.

“When I heard the news about the discovery in the woods, I knew it was the end.” “During a search of the house, additional evidence was found.

In the basement, there was a box with the girl’s belongings.

Haley and Emma’s phones, Haley’s camera, their documents, jewelry.

Hundreds of photographs of the girls in the bunker at different stages of their imprisonment were also found.

Williams had documented his crime.

In the garage was a white Ford pickup truck, the same one that a witness had seen in 2015.

Analysis showed traces of the girl’s DNA on the back seat.

Search queries made several months before the kidnapping were found on Williams’ computer.

How to build an underground bunker, ventilation systems for basements, how to hide construction, how many people can survive without food.

He planned it in advance for months, maybe years.

David Williams was formally charged on June 27th, 2020.

The list of charges included two counts of kidnapping, two counts of unlawful imprisonment, 12 counts of sexual assault, two counts of attempted murder, obstruction of justice, destruction of evidence.

Williams lawyer attempted to negotiate a plea bargain with the prosecution, a full confession in exchange for life imprisonment without the possibility of parole instead of the death penalty.

Transennsylvania County Prosecutor Marcus Johnson initially refused.

He wanted to seek the death penalty, but after consulting with the victim’s families and with Haley and Emma themselves, the decision changed.

Haley told me, prosecutor Johnson said that she didn’t want to go through a long trial.

She didn’t want to talk over and over again about what he did to her and Emma.

She didn’t want to see his face in the courtroom, hear his voice.

She wanted it to be over.

She wanted him locked up forever so she could begin to heal.

I respected her choice.

The deal was done.

On July 13th, 2020, David Thomas Williams appeared before the judge and formally pleaded guilty to all charges.

Judge Harris pronounced the sentence.

David Thomas Williams.

This court sentences you to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole on each count.

to be served consecutively.

You will spend the rest of your days in prison.

May God help your soul.

Williams was led away.

Haley burst into tears.

For the first time in 5 years, they were tears of relief, not despair.

The story of Haley Watson and Emma Hirs is one of the most shocking in North Carolina’s criminal history.

It raises questions about safety, about how predators hide among ordinary people, about how easily a person can disappear even in the 21st century with technology and communications.

It is also a story of incredible resilience.

It is about two young women who survived 5 years of hell and did not break completely.

They found a way to hold on to each other, support each other, and preserve a glimmer of humanity in absolute darkness.